


an irrevocable condition

by eat_crow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M, Relationship Reveal, Sibling Love, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eat_crow/pseuds/eat_crow
Summary: “Mr. Pendragon,” he says with a thick layer of false joyful surprise, loud enough to be heard inside. There’s a crash, a shatter, and a fuck! “It’s-- It’s so nice to meet you.” He hasn’t moved an inch. His hand is still on the door. “I’m Merlin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”“And yet I’ve heard nothing of you,” Uther says, his words cold.Morgana bursts into laughter.(or, my 2 months late christmas relationship reveal fic)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 355





	an irrevocable condition

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really just going through my docs and finishing off my long dormant wips, sorry to everyone that's waiting for me to finish my multi-chaps

Morgana shifts her bag on her arm as she knocks on the door. An evergreen wreath hangs just above the numbers that mark the address,  _ 513 _ . Muffled christmas music comes from inside. To her side, her father straightens his coat sleeves and criticizes her knock.

“He couldn’t possibly have heard you,” he says. He sets down his suitcase and reaches across her, to which she lets out a frustrated sigh and steps to the side, and raps his knuckles against the white paint in three hard knocks. The music cuts off. There’s a moment of pause, and then they hear the lock turn and the door swings open.

The man who opens the door is most certainly not Arthur.

He’s tall and thin, with a santa hat resting on black hair that just barely curls over his eyebrows and high cheekbones that are red and flushed. He’s wearing an ugly reindeer sweater, and the nose on the biggest one flashes with a red light bulb. There’s the ghost of a bright smile on his face, and it falls when he looks straight at Uther.

“I’m sorry,” Uther says, and takes his phone from his pocket, “we must have the wrong address.”

“Baby!” Arthur’s voice calls from inside, though he remains unseen, and Uther's head snaps up. “Who’s at the door?”

The flush on the man’s cheeks drains, and is replaced with a stark white pallor. Uther looks over the man’s shoulder.

“Mr. Pendragon,” he says with a thick layer of false joyful surprise, loud enough to be heard inside. There’s a crash, a shatter, and a  _ fuck! _ “It’s-- It’s so nice to meet you.” He hasn’t moved an inch. His hand is still on the door. “I’m Merlin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And yet I’ve heard nothing of you,” Uther says, his words cold.

Morgana bursts into laughter.

  
  


It shouldn't be this funny. In fact, Arthur's clenched jaw and steely eyes in her direction reminds her that this is the exact opposite of funny.

And yet. Oh, god, and yet.

"I thought we weren't celebrating christmas together this year," Arthur says as he hurries to take their father's coat and hang it on the wall. Morgana spies the other items on the rack: a few hoodies, an old brown leather jacket that looks too big for either of them, what Morgana hopes is a novelty sword, and a leather rucksack covered in patches, pins, and scuff marks hanging next to a spotless red Kånken. 

Merlin has run off somewhere, and the scraping and scuffling in the kitchen suggests he's cleaning whatever Arthur destroyed in his surprise.

"No," his father says, "you told me you couldn't find any flights to us. So we found a flight to you."

"Dad, you can't--" Arthur sighs and scrubs his face with his hand-- "you have to tell me these things, we--  _ I _ don't have anything ready, I don't have-- where did you think you were going to sleep?"

"We're just trying to uphold _ tradition _ , Arthur," Morgana goads, "you know, family values?"

"Nobody asked for an opinion from the talking cow,” Arthur says through his teeth.

"Watch your mouth," Uther snaps, and Morgana snickers.

"This is my house!" Arthur says, his anger surfacing for a moment before he tamps it down. He looks down and away, raising his hands in surrender. "Fine. Fine. I'll figure something out." He backs away and retrieves the tv remote from an old wooden coffee table covered in water rings and scratches, where a bowl in the center holds pink salt and different colored rocks. He chucks the remote at Morgana with more force than in necessary. "We have netflix and hulu. Make yourselves at home."

“What, no prime?” Morgana calls to him as she waits for the television to boot up.

“You-- Get--” he clenches his fist in her direction, the restraint in his twitching lips immeasurable. “Turn on the tv and be quiet.” Arthur rushes out of the room. He runs his hand through his hair in stress, and his step stutters as his hand hits the antler headband on his head. He tears it off and throws it onto the foyer table as he passes it. It’s a very rare occasion indeed to see Arthur so upset. 

Morgana turns on the first christmas movie she can find, something boring and heterosexual to placate their father because even if she delights in the knowledge that this has officially secured her position as favorite child for the new year, she doesn't want this disaster to escalate beyond repair. She then tosses the remote onto the couch and follows her brother.

Around the corner is the sound of pulling out and slamming drawers and the urgency of a hushed argument.

"--to say? I don't tell him this shit for a reason,  _ Mer _ lin, it's not like he was ever going to take this gently."

"If you just would've taken my fucking advice and sat him down--"

"What, now you're the coming out wizard? Fuck's sake, it's not like you had it  _ hard _ . You didn't even have to come out to your mother! I don't get that luxury!" A beer bottle opens and the cap clatters on the counter. "I've had to fight tooth and nail for my father's respect as it is, and now…" his voice wavers and tapers off.

There's a long pause. Morgana frowns at the wall and the numerous decorations that hang on it. There's a pang in her chest as she realizes there is an entire world her brother lives in that is unknown to her, and that it's because he doesn't trust her enough to share it. 

"You're right," Merlin relents, "I'm sorry. I guess I don't-- I don't understand." The next drawer closes a little more gently.

"I just… really need you to be on my side right now." The bottle is set down on the counter with a  _ clink. _ There's the sound of a chaste kiss.

"Always and forever, until the day I die," he says, and there's an answering laugh that suggests a joke Morgana isn't privy to.

Morgana presses her lips together and clenches her fists. Arthur is her brother. He knows things about her that no one else on the planet does, just by means of being a passenger in the horrible car ride that was their childhood, and she will not let him think she doesn't love him.

So she loudly clears her throat as she turns the corner into the kitchen. Arthur and Merlin pull apart, Merlin with his arms crossed over his chest and worrying his thumbnail between his teeth and Arthur with one hand on the counter and one hand on his hip. Arthur is on the left, standing almost directly in front of the fridge. The front of which is covered by letter magnets that spell various swear words and items for a grocery list, as well as magnets that boast that they were bought in Versailles, in Munich, Machu Picchu, the Great Wall, and more, all holding down pictures of the two men at those very places. 

It's messy and more than a little tacky. In a picture taken in Moscow, a very bundled Merlin drags Arthur closer with an arm around his neck to press a kiss to his cheek. Arthur, with his nose red from the cold, laughs in the direction of the camera.

Arthur always wanted to go to Moscow. He'd stopped bugging her about it two years ago without any warning. She thought he'd simply lost interest. Shows how well she knows him.

She reaches behind Arthur and tugs on the door. It hits him in the back.

"Move," she says curtly.

"'Excuse me'," he answers as he steps to the side. Morgana steals a coke zero and cracks the tab open.

"You're excused," she says, and takes a sip. The worry lines in Arthur's forehead ease, but he gives them to Merlin, who looks between them like they're speaking a foreign language. She leans back against the fridge. "So," she says. "Merlin, huh?"

"That's me," he agrees, and waves in a way that could be awkward in anyone who took it less in stride.

"How long have you been living together?"

A pained expression passes over Merlin's face as he does the math. Arthur watches him with unabashed amusement, his eyebrows raised. He gives him a moment before he steps in.

"Three…" he hints, and Merlin gives him a dark glare.

"--Three years and four months," he says over Arthur, "I know. I  _ remember _ ." Arthur shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, that easy smile still nudging the corners of his lips. "You're Arthur's sister, right?" He asks.

"Half-sister," she says. She jerks her thumb towards her chest. "Extra marital affair." Merlin grimaces, and she waves him off. The wound is long healed, and she doesn't need his pity. She takes another sip from her coke. "Don't worry about dad. He'll get over it."

"He might not," Arthur answers. "He still won't let that poor girl at Target bag his groceries, and it's been ten months." Merlin quirks an eyebrow, and Arthur raises a placating hand and nods, mouthing  _ later. _

"Then he's just a bitter old man." She turns the coke tab towards herself then pushes it away and towards and away and towards until it snaps off. "If it comes down to it, he can have both of us or neither of us."

Arthur stares at her with open shock. His eyes shine. He clears his throat and swirls the remaining liquid in his bottle.

"Great, now I have to deal with your theatrics on top of everything else," he says, the sarcasm empty, and Morgana kicks his shoe.

"I'm going to order some thai, and you're going to pay for it," she says as she takes out her phone. Uther likes thai food. It'll calm him down, a little, and maybe even put him in a forgiving mood.

It doesn't.

Before the food arrives Uther decides to flip through a book left on the couch.  _ Giovanni's Room. _ That conversation doesn't go well. It goes worse when the inside cover reads that it was a gift from Merlin to Arthur. Arthur wilts under the accusations, firm in the defense of his lover but worn down as the argument continues. Arthur always had a weak spot for Uther's criticism. Merlin grits his teeth and bristles and goes out for a smoke. He slams the door going out and again when he storms back into the house.

His face is spotted with red, and he does not duck his head or avert his swollen eyed gaze to make it comfortable for anyone as he rushes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Morgana decides she quite likes this boy.

No one eats. Merlin stabs the shrimp in his tom yum goong, Arthur twists the same forkful of noodles in his pad thai for five minutes, Uther hasn't even touched his utensils. Morgana panic-texts a group-chat consisting of her friends Guinevere, Sefa, and Mordred. Everyone's advice is to bail as soon as possible.

Occasionally, Uther asks very backhanded questions.

"Does your family know where you are, Merlin?" And then, imperceptibly snide if you hadn't been raised by the man, "And why?"

"Yes sir," Merlin says, either unaware or determined not to let it get him down. "It's just my mother, but she knows."

"I've met her a few times," Arthur interjects. "She's a very nice woman."

"If she's such a nice woman, why isn't Merlin here spending the holidays with her?"

"I usually do," Merlin says darkly, "but we--" he looks to Arthur-- "thought it was time we start making our own traditions." 

"Traditions aren't made, they're upheld," Uther says.

"Well, who made the traditions for them to be upheld in the first place?" Merlin asks. Uther glares. Merlin doesn't waver. The two Pendragon children hold their silverware with white knuckle grips.

"So, Morgana, how's the doctorate coming along?" Arthur asks, his voice strained.

That soothes the fires for all of fifteen minutes, as Morgana explains her degree in social sciences and Merlin exuberantly responds that he has his masters in anthropology and isn't that grand. 

Then it goes quiet again, and Uther opens his mouth.

"How long have you two been… in acquaintance?" Uther asks. Arthur sets down his fork with the smallest, most polite clatter that has ever been known to man.

"Well, we, uh, we met five years ago, and we've been dating for four. Merlin moved in a little under a year after we got together."

"Rather fast."

"When you know, you know," Merlin says. He takes a sip from his drink. Uther unfolds his napkin just to fold it again and toss it on the table.

"It's just that you have to understand how in shock I am," Uther says, and Morgana and Arthur's eyes are flitting between them like they're watching a tennis match. "My son never shows any sign of being of  _ your _ persuasion, and never speaks of you to me--"

"And why would he when you react this way? Why should he be honest with you when your scorn is his reward?"

"Let's not fight--" Arthur tries, but everyone ignores him.

"I'm only looking out for  _ my _ family,  _ my _ son," Uther says, jabbing his finger onto the tabletop to punctuate his words. "You come into Arthur's life, you fill his mind with that  _ filth-- _ " he points in the direction of the couch-- "what are you after? Is it money? Because I can--"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Merlin yells, and he's up so fast his chair goes flying out behind him. Morgana and Arthur's shoulders both tighten, pushing back from the table on a long learned reflex. "I am so  _ sick _ of people like you thinking you have an opinion on relationships you aren't a part of! If you--"

"Where I come from--" Uther starts, but Merlin interrupts.

" _ I'm talking _ !" He shouts over him. Arthur's jaw drops. Morgana's eyes may just pop out of her head. Uther leans back in shock. "This house is  _ mine! _ I bought the fucking table you're sitting at and I pay my share! And I go to bed, every night, with  _ your son _ , because I want to wake up next to him every morning! That's the only fucking reason! Because I love him! And until  _ you _ start paying rent, and  _ you _ start buying our furniture and our groceries,  _ you _ don't get to say a damn thing about how we live!" He leans forward, his teeth bared. "And I don't care how you do things in  _ England _ , Mr. Pendragon, because guess what, motherfucker? I'm  _ welsh! _ "

There's a moment of sharp, agitated silence, where Merlin is breathing hard from his outburst and the clock on the wall ticks and there is no other sound. No one ever spoke to Uther in this way. Morgana got close, once or twice, but never like this. Arthur stares at Merlin with the wonder of someone looking at the moon for the first time. And then Merlin seems to realize what he's done, and clenches his fists and clears his throat as he takes his seat.

"Sir," he finishes, and picks up his fork.

"Uther," Uther says, and everyone else freezes.

"P-- uh, Pardon?" Merlin asks. 

"My name is Uther. Not 'Mr. Pendragon'." 

There's a shuffle and Merlin winces, then glares at Arthur for a fraction of a second. He doesn't quite know the significance, that not a single one of Arthur's girlfriends or Morgana's boyfriends has ever had the privilege of calling their father by his first name.

"Uther, then," Merlin says quietly.

"If you ever speak to me that way again, I'll throw you against a wall," Uther says conversationally as he unfolds the napkin once more and finally places it over his lap, and Merlin narrows his eyes as if he's daring him to do so, and Morgana decides she  _ really _ likes this boy, "but I respect a man who will stand up for his beliefs."

"I'll take it," Merlin says gruffly.

They finish dinner without saying another word.

It's too late for Uther to check into a hotel, so Arthur frets over making him comfortable on the couch. That leaves Morgana on the floor, where she refuses to sleep, and thus makes Arthur shove over as she crawls into bed with them.

"I hate you," Arthur says, kicking her as he scoots further into the arms of his boyfriend.

"Get bent," she answers, and pulls the pillow from under his head. She punches it to fluff it up, because Arthur's big fat head flattened it. "Or, wait, not while I'm in bed with you."

At least Merlin laughs at that one.

They all shuffle around to get comfortable. Arthur turns so his back is to Morgana and wraps his arm around Merlin's waist. Morgana turns, too, staring at the wall until her eyes adjust to the light and she can see the blocks on the wall that are probably bookshelves and the ominous glob in the corner that's probably just a chair covered in clothes.

After what feels like ages of staying deadly still in the hopes that it will send her to sleep, Merlin speaks.

"I'm sorry about your dad," he whispers. "You deserve better than him."

"Merlin--"

"Sh," he hushes, "she's asleep." She isn't, but she chooses to squeeze her eyes closed rather than voice it. "I can't believe someone as good as you came from somebody like that."

"Can't believe someone as terrible as you came from someone as great as your mom," Arthur says, his voice muffled. Merlin sighs.

"I'm so proud of you, sunshine," he says. "I'm glad I met you."

Arthur doesn't answer for a long moment. There's a light, unsteady breathing, and Morgana's fingers curl close to her chest in discomfort.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, I think," he says finally, his voice tight and an octave to high.

"I know," Merlin whispers back, and Arthur huffs a laugh. Morgana smiles.

It's sweet, she thinks. So sweet, in fact, that when Merlin wakes them the next morning with an air horn and an exuberant scream that  _ it's christmas! _ she almost doesn't despise him.

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> _Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition. - James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room_
> 
> i'm on tumblr @ [sterlingdylan](https://sterlingdylam.tumblr.com)


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